Tarzan and Jane Do the Equator

Our exposure to HIGH ALTITIUDE started right away. We landed in Quito, situated at 9,000 feet above sea level. Immediately, we felt the altitude, though it wasn't as bad as it had been for H at 12,000 feet in La Paz or W at 9,000 feet in Cusco. Day two we went to a travel agent and completed our plans for the rest of the trip - an amazing accomplishment given the cotton wool that was our brains (a result not only of the altitude and jet lag, but also the lead-laden exhaust from the traffic).

AND NOW THE ANDES

Day three we found ourselves being driven around the mountains. First, we descended from the long high valley where Quito is and drove along ridges and valleys to a sleepy residential hacienda named Guyala. A 1563 ranch of yesteryear, it boasted ancient white washed walls, red tiled roofs, a cobble stoned courtyard with a fountain, and family chapel with fading frescoes. Very rustic indeed.

On we went to Otavalo, the indigenous market town north of Quito famous for its weaving. It was colorful, active, and pleasant, but as we had done the market scenes in Guatemala and Mexico, it didn't astound. Also, 80% of the same products are now being sold on the streets of NYC and SF in the U.S. - such is the world economy. We, the tourists, failed to shop or spend much money. [Fear not reader, the rest of this trip was not a "been-there-done-that" for us.]

The next stop was Cayambe, a nature preserve with a forest and waterfall. Many locals visited it. It was fun to watch the Indian kids attempt to push each other off the log-bridge which crossed the river at the foot of the waterfall while we ate. A number of stray dogs gathered around us in the hope of a hand out, moving ever closer in pursuit of our lunch. H took pity on them and tossed a few crusts their way. We went on to see a volcanic crater which looked like a giant water hole with two enormous breasts sticking out of it. Beautiful clouds, majestic scenery. Alas, no swimming.

In between these natural wonders were two small market towns. One was called Cotacachi, famous for making leather products. Indeed, the shops held gorgeous leather and suede jackets. Though they were not crowded and accepted all manner of plastic, we were not in the mood to shop. W ended up buying a beautiful suede jacket in Quito the following week.

The other town, San Francisco de Bara, was charming not because of its specialty, carved wooden products, but because we witnessed the start of a church ceremony simultaneously modern and ancient. We were inside the church, looking at all the enthusiastically painted icons and frescoes, when the alter boy began jazzing it up on an electric organ which was connected to a loudspeaker on the roof. People came dressed in their Sunday best (it was 3pm on Sat.) and were introduced to song by the electric organ as the priests came up and started the service. Afterwards we sat on a bench in the colonial town plaza and watched the world go by in this sleepy burg.

Our last stop was the spruced up Hacienda Cusin. A mere 400 years old, it boasted beautiful suites with antique furniture, squash, swimming, and horseback riding. The exquisite and extensive garden was its major attraction.

The next day we viewed the mountains via an 11-hour bus ride from Quito to Coca, from which our jungle adventure would start. We found the contours of old volcanoes velvety green. In between naps, pit stops, and military checkpoints, the landscape gradually changed from high, jagged ridges with precarious drops (the driver was mercifully slow) to flat, hot jungle.

THE AMAZING AMAZON

What a relief that Peru and Ecuador had two months before grudgingly signed a treaty which settled their age-old territorial dispute (for now). As long as one was with a tour, no problema with the military. On the bus, we met two of our tour companions. One was an Ecuadorian CPA named Marcello. He looked like a recently divorced city slicker looking for jungle wildlife adventure. The other was a Belgian woman in her early forties who spent most of the bus trip alternating between fixing her hair and doing her makeup. She was wearing a tight white outfit, high heel shoes and, for some reason, the top three buttons of her blouse kept falling open. She too was looking for adventure, but of a different kind.

It was humid in the frontier oil town of Coca, population 2,000. It was situated on the banks of the Rio Napo, which is a major Amazonian tributary. The streets were unpaved and muddy but the shops had all the necessities, like bottled water and bananas. The next morning, after a night in the best hotel in town, we had a refreshing morning swim in the pool serenaded by parrots, and a confusing breakfast (who would have guessed that tortilla means "omelet" in Ecuadorian Spanish?).

At 11am, a large dug out canoe filled with our group picked us up. Besides Mr. CPA and Mlle. Tight-White-in-the-Jungle, there was a German backpacking couple (no English, no Spanish), and a Brit backpacker (who had been living for awhile in Colorado, so he sounded like he was from Australia). The bottom line: non-smokers 2, smokers 5. W and H were covered from head to toe for the battle against the equatorial sun, while the Europeans sun bathed. We were in the back, so we got to watch everybody singe his/her skin and lungs at the same time.

The river trip was supposed to take 5 hours but ended up taking 7 because of stops and the low level of the river, which caused us to run into several sandbars. Still two hours from our camp, we found ourselves rolling up our pants and pushing the canoe off a sandbar more than once. It was truly a special moment when H was straining to push the heavy canoe off the sandbar, while Miss Belgique-Tragique was still sitting aboard, puffing away on her cigarette 12 inches away and blowing smoke in H's face. Now, were her accidental splashes at H before TRULY accidental?

The star of this tour was the guide, Luis. He was obviously a renegade in his society - an ecohippy if there ever was one. Mestizo, he sported a long black pony tail and was a curious combination of Indian, macho Latino and sensitive nature lover. He led our jungle walks bare headed and footed, yet had no problem about borrowing mosquito repellent and, after five hours, sun block. He would jump up and down with glee every time a bird flew by and worshipped the anaconda snake. He had just returned from a month trip to the US where he had been invited to several "Save the Rainforest" conferences and had visited, of all places, Bar Harbor, Maine. Of course he had tried lobster and therefore we bonded instantly.

The sun was setting by the time we made it to Panacocha Lodge - Panacocha means "Lake Of Piranhas". Surrounded by mangroves and thick virgin jungle, it was a cleared section with stilted, thatched roofed huts overlooking an old oxbow lake. No electricity but there was cold running water in each cabin (who needs hot water in equatorial jungle?).

The following three days were a magical combination of deep jungle walks, bird watching from the 85-foot high observation tower, and canoe rides in the nearby waterways and mangrove swamps.

The jungle is enormously complex. Though Luis, during our walks, introduced us to more than 25 plants and trees, most with medicinal qualities, he was the first to admit that he was only "scratching the surface." The insects are astoundingly numerous. Indeed, most have not yet been documented or studied. Some are being wiped out as the forest is being burned down. Luis had told us that there were no mosquitoes in the jungle, and for 24 hours we were able to believe him. Apparently it was the sand flies which made W look like he had the chicken pox. They have this way of biting you so you don't notice until it's too late.

There are many animals in the jungle of course, but it's difficult to see them because they are hiding. Even monkeys have a reason to be shy, since natives think that they make great soup. The jungle we explored is probably the richest in flora and fauna diversity in the world. Although Ecuador has only 2% of the Amazonian watershed, it has over 30% of all Amazonian life forms - probably more than the rest of the world combined.

We are fortunately, bird lovers. Before sun up, W was inspired to crawl out from under the mosquito net (which one does not need so much for mosquitoes as for all those other flying buzzing things, which land on you at night). He would climb 5 stories to the top of the platform built around a ceiba tree (which are also called "light house trees" as they tower above the jungle canopy) and watch the birds fly from tree to tree while the sun rose over the mist laden canopy. There were (for anyone who is interested): toucans, yellow-billed caciques, parrots, macaws, vultures, ospreys, snake birds, parakeets, herons, egrets, and humming birds. One also had a much better view of the bromeliads, blooms, and lianas, which are all technically parasites.

Our favorite bird of all time was the camp mascot, "Dodo." Dodo was a gray-winged trumpeter. You will just have to see his picture. He landed at the camp two years previously with an injured foot. Luis pulled out the thorn and Dodo had stayed ever since. Trumpeters are excellent snake hunters and watch birds - they make loud trumpeting sounds when excited. We felt that he was our guardian angel. Indeed, he once alerted Luis to a poisonous snake's presence while they were on a jungle walk. Dodo was very social. Every time we came back from an outing, we were surprised by a very agitated Dodo, running towards, trumpeting "where have you been?" We were his favorites. He would strut around the walls of our cabin, inspecting them for lizards and snakes. Sometimes he would follow us all the way up to the top of the tower stairs (walking, not flying) and then, once up there, would "dive bomb" from the top. At night, we could hear him on top of the roof. We don't know when he slept. He even posed for his portrait, which W did in aquarelle crayons.

We went on both small paddle powered (silent) and big motorized dug out canoe rides along the rivers and tributaries. The smaller rides in the swampy areas were the most pregnant with possibilities of seeing turtles, caimans, monkeys, and jumping piranhas. The highlight of our trip was coming upon a 25-ft anaconda snake sunning himself on a big tree trunk. Those who got out of their canoe and teetered on the tree trunk leading to the hollow stump were able to see its head. Those others of us were only able to see 2/3 of its body coiling around the branch as it escaped. Luis was enthralled. He memorized the spot and we went back there two days later (as silently as possible of course) to see if he was still there. He wasn't visible.

We were told that it was no problem to swim in the rivers. They looked muddy and brown and were full of piranhas but Luis said that these kinds of piranhas only eat dead animals and are not interested in warm, kicking humans. So we did swim, but only from the dock, so that if anything started biting, we could get out quick. We also attempted to fish for the piranhas but they were too adept at cleaning off our hooks without getting caught.

What else? We did manage to spot (actually it was the native boy who spotted everything and then told us where to look) a tribe of howler monkeys high in the trees. It was even more fun to hear the male howler monkeys in the morning. They sounded like a gale wind blowing. Other fauna sightings included pink river dolphins, turtles, otters, river bats, wild pigs, poisonous frogs, butterflies and the world's largest rodent, the capybara.

On Christmas Eve we celebrated with a beer, popcorn and the exchange of everyone's address (particularly to get a picture of the anaconda taken by one of the Germans).

Christmas day we headed out at 5am in the dark waters for a long cold ride back to Coca - it was like a tropical sleigh ride. The river was high (thanks to the very dramatic rainstorm the night before) and frothy with decomposing plants. It was a relatively quick five hours, leaving plenty of time to catch the plane back to Quito, which we greatly preferred to taking a 14 hour night bus ride. The next morning we caught up with the Brit who had been on our tour. He had had the misfortune to sit next to Mlle. Belgique on the night bus back and had been kept awake all night long with her complaining to him that she couldn't sleep.

GALLOPING THROUGH THE GALLAPAGOS

We were SO lucky to get on this boat! A) It was a sailboat; a 60-foot wooden ketch named "Rachel III". It had four guest cabins with attached "heads" with showers plus two crew cabins, a lounge and a galley. B) It was owned and operated by the very best nautical tour company in Ecuador - Quasar Nautica. C) We got a last minute price, which added up to a 70% reduction for a first class, 8-day tour. D) The head of sales and operations, Monica, a 35 year old Ecuadorian of Italian descent, had fallen in love with the guide, Mauricio, and they had contrived to spend New Year's week on this boat together. Since she was "the boss" we got extra food and extra excellent service from the crew of five. E) We were a small group. Besides the lovebirds, and us there were only two other couples. One couple from New York City, Carol and Larry, very nice, and the other from Los Angeles, Jack and Roseanne, amusing and multi-gadgeted. All the whining Long Islanders were on the other boats that we followed around from Island to Island, so we could laugh at them from a safe distance. F) Our guide Mauricio, like W, is an avid photographer, watercolorist and graphic designer.

We were very excited to land in the Galapagos Islands! Never have we been so willing to fork over $100 each (for the National Park entrance fee). This was indeed the "end of the earth" in many respects. An isolated group of volcanic islands left undisturbed for eons…birds, reptiles and mammals unafraid of humans. We couldn't wait. We met Mauricio who led us to our bus and on to the Rachel III. We were served lunch, then we got off the boat again and toured the brand new interpretive center which described the natural history and geography of the Islands. On the boat again, we had a welcome cocktail and a formal introduction to our crew, resplendent in their crisp white uniforms; then the sunset and dinner next to the shining lights of the harbor and other yachts. We were in the lap of luxury. And, boy, were we lapping it up!

Bedtime was at 8:30. We "set sail" (actually, the majority of the time they just motored and didn't use the sails) at 1:30 in the morning. The first night was scary. There we were, sleeping in our bunks, suddenly awakened by the noise of the anchor being pulled up and then the boat was bobbing way up and WAY down. At least it seemed that way to us, the landlubbers. Unlike Charles Darwin, we never got seasick thanks to our medicine. not even on our roughest night ride when H was bouncing out of her bunk. Well, W felt queasy from time to time, but he had never known the joy of seasickness, and so needed to be somewhat educated. So what is the opposite of seasickness? Sea legs! During the week, every time we landed for a shore walk, H had the sensation of the land swaying under her. This sensation got stronger towards the end of the week, and made for a sleepless night back in Quito, but the pleasant sensation of swaying will be missed.  

It was the first time either of us had been on a boat for so long. H thought often of her brother Chris, who had sailed around the world in such a boat in 1986-87. She attempted to tell the story in Spanish to the captain and learned the Spanish word for sailor - "marinero"!

It was quite relaxing for us to have everything taken care of and all decisions made. Our only challenges for that week were: A) to avoid seasickness, B) to get warm after snorkeling, and C) not to eat too much They fed us five times per day and every single meal had meat in it. (We had to explain to the chef, who was excellent, that Americans no longer eat red meat the way they used to.) For New Year's Eve, the chef managed, in his tiny galley, to produce a five-course meal, which included a turkey, stuffing, three vegetables, a big cake and ice cream! They woke us up a little before midnight to see in 1999. We, and the other boats in the vicinity, set off flares and drank champagne…daHling!

SEA LIONS The first morning landing was on a beach full of California Sea Lions, the first of many sea lion sightings. The sea lions there are smaller than the ones up in "El Norte" because the water is warmer and so they require less insulation. The idea was to stay away from the barking bull seal, who was guarding his "harem" of females on the beach A male can bark, guard and chase away competing males for up to two weeks without eating. Then he retires to a "bachelor colony" for a week to eat and rest up. Then he returns to eject the occupying bull - a short competitive life. The females and pups looked much more relaxed, lolling in the sun, flipping their flippers. El Nino of '98 took its toll on the seals, as well as other wildlife. The sea warmed up a few degrees, killing many fish, which was the seals' source of food. Two or three months ago, there were many seal carcasses on the beach.  We also saw fur seals on one island. They are smaller (and furrier) than sea lions. They are also rarer because they were nearly hunted to extinction 100 years ago. It is thought that they are making a comeback but for now they are still hiding in the rocks.

FISH After the morning landing and usually before lunch, we would return to the boat and then go for a snorkel. The water was generally 65-70 degrees F, not cold but not a bath either. The longest we lasted was half an hour in the water. Fortunately, the first mate was always hovering nearby ready to rescue us in the launcH The fish were much like those in the Sinai - parrot fish, clown fish and other colorful, striped varieties such as the moorish idol. The currents were varied and STRONG at times. The highlight of all the snorkeling trips was swimming with a pack of squawking Galapagos penguins, the smallest species of penguin there is! Also, we swam briefly with a seal and a giant manta ray. Some of our group saw hammerhead sharks.

THE BIRDS The most famous birds in the Galapagos are boobies, thousands of them. On day one we saw masked boobies and blue footed boobies. They nest close to each other. How do they tell each other apart? By doing dances. The blue footed boobies, for example, do the blue footed booby dance, which is a slow and careful demonstration of their bright blue feet to the other booby. On another day we saw the third booby, red footed boobies, which, unlike the other boobies, nest in trees and bushes instead of rocks. Other stars in the cast of the bird drama were: albatrosses, Galapagos hawks, frigate birds, lava herons, lava gulls, herons, vermilion fly catchers, pelicans, mocking birds, several varieties of finches, petrels, cormorants and owls.  The birds were numerous on land, water and in the air. We stayed strictly on the assigned trails but often there were nests or juvenile birds right at our feet. As our gazillion pictures will show, these birds were all characters!

TORTOISES One day, in the middle of the trip, we visited the largest town in the Galapagos, Puerto Ayora, population 13,000. Civilization meant t-shirts and possibly e-mail but mostly it was tortoise day. First we went to the Charles Darwin Research Center, where there lived the infamous "Lonesome George", the last tortoise of his subspecies. Sailors and introduced rats have devastated the population of tortoises on many islands. So they started a breeding program for all the other species of tortoises which involves rat proof containers to protect the eggs and a release program for the tortoises at age five when they are able to fend off predators.  After a wonderful lunch in the highlands of Santa Cruz, we visited a farm, which had, besides a few unwelcome cows, some wild tortoises. We bet that you have never heard a 500 lb. plus tortoise hiss before, have you? Well that's what happens when you approach one closely in the wild. It was quite a surreal scene. Imagine a pasture, with stubby grass and some trees and a puddle of muddy water. One expects mooing cows, but not giant tortoises sitting under trees or lumbering towards the water hole. To look at an old tortoise's face and its thousands of wrinkles is to know where the inspiration for ET came from.

IGUANAS & LIZARDS Also particularly Galapagosesque were the land and marine iguanas. The marine iguanas are the only marine reptiles in the world. They both looked like pre-Ice Age relics. Very picturesque and colorful. What can we say? A picture is worth a thousand words!

TERRAIN Though our tour was paradisiacal, we did not come away wanting to move to the Galapagos. For one thing, it's too much work putting on all that sun block everyday. For another, one would feel guilty, being human and destroying the animals' habitat just by one's very presence. And, throughout recent history, lots of people have tried to live on the islands and gone nuts, because they are still islands in the middle of no where. Another major problem is that there is no fresh water on the islands, so not only are the animals often thirsty (take the mocking birds for instance; they were always trying to get at our water bottles whenever we took a drink), but it's very dry, everywhere. There are very interesting forms of giant cacti, some of which are 300 years old, dry brush, ice plants and trees that live nowhere else in the world, but otherwise, it is a volcanic desert. The only exception is in the highlands where there is more rain.

Maybe volcano lovers would want to live in the Galapagos. They could see active and non-active volcanoes everywhere, because that's what the islands are made of. One place where we landed, Bartholome, had had a major eruption 100 years earlier. The landscape was black and nearly devoid of plants. The paths were gray ash. So one could see the process of hot lava turning into cold lava and breaking up and doing all those geological things that the earth does when it erupts.  The Galapagos Islands were very beautiful in a dry, austere way, perhaps even other worldly. The truly astounding thing about this place was that the wildlife was totally without fear of man. As far as they are concerned, man is about as threatening as a tree stump or a fellow bird. Just part of the landscape. This means the wildlife can be viewed from just a few inches or feet away - photographic heaven!